


Makes More Sense

by RedRobbyRobbin



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M, Undertaker is a sad bean, mental problems, ronnie protecc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 05:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18585013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRobbyRobbin/pseuds/RedRobbyRobbin
Summary: ~Ronald Knox x Undertaker~~takes place after the book of Atlantic and the school arc~~big spoilers for chapter 60 and up~Undertaker was gradually giving up on his bizarre dolls. How will he continue his playing after dispatch had found him. Now not having the energy to plead for forgiveness in court, a young agent named Ronald Knox, speaks up.





	Makes More Sense

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, there might just be continued stories going off this story line. (Some of which may or may not be smut)

Makes More Sense

 

It was cold, the chains hurt, it smelt of blood and he swore he could still hear the cries of the last reaper to dwell in this caged room of steel and stone. All in all, it wasn't the worst thing he has had to bear.

He hardly even cared that the dispatch had found him. It's not like his plans were doing well anyway. His dolls wouldn't listen, no matter what he tried. If they didn't have a soul, they just couldn't live. Not like an actual human anyway. Life had become so dull either way. He could hardly muster a smile, let alone a laugh. Normally the thought of experimenting with human life would bring a thrill through his body, but lately it just felt like more work. He hadn't said a word since dispatch came for him. He didn't put up much of a fight either. He was just too tired, his body felt drained of energy.

There was the sound of a metal door opening, Undertaker didn't make a move to have any reaction. He kept his head down, laying in between his raised arms. The chains bound to his wrist would most likely live a bruise. Not that it mattered, as soon as he got out of this little 'supernatural creature magic draining' room, it would heal within a few hours.

"Come now death." the stern voice of William T Spears could be heard from the cage door. William almost sounded disgusted. almost. Undertaker didn't bother giving a reaction to the tone, as he was pulled off the ground by the chains bound to this wrists.

The sound of two others footsteps could be heard. By the force of their footsteps he could tell they were either a bigger build, or taller than William. Which the latter would be quite surprising, considering Mr. Spears is a rather tall man. From just hearing alone, he was able to tell that William was walking ahead of him. The two strangers walking on either side, most likely just for security reasons. It was a habit of his, to analyse his surroundings. When in actually reality, he didn't care much for what going on or what awaits him. 

The sounds of the other prisoner shinigami could be heard spitting insults as they walked past. Nor Undertaker or the others showed much interest in them. Undertaker's old self would probably snicker at them, making witty responses to their comments, but he couldn't find the energy to speak or even look up. The few that recognised Undertaker stayed silent or just watched in amazement. Undertaker was never all to happy when he would receive attention from other shinigami because of his ranking.

The insults and echoing of the stone walls started to dull down as they all walked out of the holding cells and into a courtroom. William took a seat next to a young, enthusiastic, two-toned haired, junior reaper that Undertaker recognised as Ronald Knox. Next to the small agent was the flamboyant red-head, Grell Sutcliff. Undertaker saw Grell give William a sidelong glance and a smirk. Again, if he was like his former self, he probably would have chuckled at the blonde rolling his eyes at his mentor. But laughter had seem to disappear. The thought made Undertakers lip quiver a tad.

"Death." the loud voice of the judge called and echoed across the room. A few reapers flinched. Undertaker didn't even blink an eye at the call. This man didn't scare him. In fact, he was one of the reapers Undertaker had half taught. The man was failing classes, about to be kicked out of the school. He wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the Undertaker announcing to the principal that he should have a second chance.

Undertaker zoned out as the judge started talking. He was only pointing out the things the ancient had done wrong. The only thing he heard was the end of the lengthy speech. "For your crimes, I hear by sentenced you to death." The voice echoed. That was the first thing to surprise the Undertaker in a long while. Most reapers got a suspension or more work to do on the side of there main departments management. He guessed it made sense, he was retired. To be completely honest, Undertaker didn't care. Death would be a good way to escape immortal suffering. If he couldn't laugh, what was the point?

"What?!" a loud young voice called out. "Ronnie, please. You can't just call out!" the usually flirting tone of Grell was heard. So the Knox boy was the one who yelled. The lad was still young, so it would be reasonable to understand his alarm at a death sentence.

"You can't be serious, you can't kill him!" the young boy continued. "Ronald Knox, i ask that you silence yourself." the warden announced. "Your honor, with all do respect, how can you be so bloody blind?!" Ronald accused. The boy was normally rather respectful. He never stepped out of place (to an extent, at least). But here he was, arguing with court.

"Can't you see the guy is dealing with some sort of mental problem?" Even Undertaker thought that was a rather brave statement to make. It was nice though, to have someone trying to defend you. It didn't happen often, most people were scared of him. It didn't matter if he was in the human or shinigami world, both feared him. The human world for his 'creepy' persona. Shinigami world for his 'legendary death' persona. He didn't mind, he was a bit of a hermit. That being said, even a shinigami can get lonely.

"Plus, you can't just kill legendary death!" Ronald's argument continued. Undertaker visibly cringed and shook his head. He hated his status. "Then what do you suppose we do with him?" Williams cold tone could have froze a human. "I..." the boy was stuck for an answer. "Give him a second chance" the uncharacteristic serious voice of Grell joined the debate.

The judges eyes had a hidden sadness to them. Undertaker knew well what the look meant. "I... think we have something arranged." It was subtle, but the whole room heard it. "He may live, but there are conditions." the judge continued. Everyone was now listening intently, even Undertaker this time. "He will start working as a collections reaper. But there are a few rules. One, He needs to stay with an agent. Two, He wears a tracking collar that sends an alarm to the higher ups and general affairs when he goes out of range. The range is determined by a watch, that the person he is currently living with wears. There for the agent is stuck with Undertaker. Three, After half a year the tracker can come off, as Undertaker will be 'Trusted', but still under watch." With that, all the attendance left the room. 

~xoxo~ 

Undertaker was lost on what to do. Currently Grell Sutcliff, Alan Humphries, Eric Slingby, Ronald Knox (who was napping with his head on the table) and William T. Spears were all sitting around a table arguing on who should 'look after' the undertaker. Eric and Alan used the excuse that they didn't know the undertaker. Everyone disagreed that Grell should take him, as it would probably end up with the undertaker getting sexual assaulted in some way. William used the excuse that he was to busy and also in the management department. Undertaker was surprised that the Knox boy hadn't woken up yet, with all the yelling going on. Just as the thought crossed his mind, Ronald stirred and lazily opened one eye. Undertaker would be lying if he said the young man didn't look cute at the moment. His feathered hair was ruffled and the gravity defying curl was tilting to the right more than usual. As the man yawned everyone at the table went silent and glanced at him. "What's with all the yelling?" Ronald said in a groggy voice. "Thinking over it, the reason one of us has to drag the undertaker around with us if because of Ronnie, why isn't he the one looking after the old goon?" Grell said. The reapers nodded their heads in agreement. "Guess I did. Fine, whatever, i'll take the old guy." Ronald seemed to agree as well, lofting his shoulders in a shrug. This would be interesting, the last time undertaker had a 'roommate' was when he was still going through school.

~xoxo~

Ronald lived in a small apartment only a few blocks away from work. The unit wasn't as messy as the undertaker expected it to be. They walked into a living room, coloured a nice green. Beyond the living room was a hallway with the bathroom and bedroom. On the other side of the living room a glass door lead to the kitchen. "Welcome to the Knox fort. It's not much, but i guess you probably wouldn't mind. You did live in that rundown shop." Ronald said while walking through the door. Undertaker shot a glare at the back of the blondes head. His shop may not have looked very appealing, but he was fond of it. Undertaker walked in and sat on one of the armchairs. "Would you like something to eat or drink?" asked Ronald. Undertaker didn't hear him, he was busy trying to figure out why the young agent had saved him. All he had ever done for Ronald was kick him in the face. The boy seemed to have healed well, nonetheless. No marks, no scars. Lucky kid.

"Hey, old dude." Ronald said while waving a hand in front of the undertaker's face. Undertaker's eyes met another's for the first time since he had been taken in. Ronald was close enough for him to see clearly. Again, his former self would have laughed at the way his wide framed glasses sat on his face. Ronald had a boyish charm to him. From what Undertaker remembered, the agent was a ladies man.

Attention shifting back to the blonde that stood before him, undertaker tilted his head. It was a thing he did when he was curious. He developed this because he never could really show confusion with the top half of his face covered. So, like a confused puppy, he just cocks his head to the side. Ronald seemed to catch on. "I asked if you wanted anything. A drink, food?" Ronald repeated. Undertaker just shook his head. A few strands of silver hair flowing with the motion. "All right, I'm gonna start setting up the couch for you to sleep on." With that, the blonde disappeared into the house.

 

After a few hours of Ronald scampering around the house, getting things ready for the Undertaker, and finishing any papers he hadn't finished at work, it was time for the little agent to sleep. During the fussing the blonde was doing around the house, he had managed to take time out of his schedule and make some food for the Undertaker. Even going as far to put the plate in front of the ancient. Encouraging him to eat. Undertaker didn't understand. Why was this young chap actually looking after him? Most people only ever came near him to ask for information. The last time he hadn't been feared by a person was just before the Phantomhives went up in flames. He truly missed that family. Even the young master did not come back the same. At least one out of four survived. 

The young blonde had gone to bed. Around three in the morning, Undertaker laid awake, sobbing quietly. Maybe the agent was right? He was going through some type of mental problem? But that didn't make sense, he didn't feel sad, or angry or anything really. He felt hollow, empty. Nothing brought him any joy anymore. He couldn't laugh, couldn't smile. When he cried, he wasn't sad. He didn't know why he was crying. He turned around and sobbed into his pillow, soon losing energy and falling asleep.

This cycle continued for a week. Undertaker and Ronald would go to work, collect souls, come home, eat, Ronald would go to bed to sleep and Undertaker would go to bed to cry himself to exhaustion. It was only until one night Ronald got up to get a drink that he ever found out Undertaker truly wasn't alright. 

Soft footprints made the floorboard creak as the blonde made his way down the hall. His hair was even messier than normal. His face was drowsy and unfocused. That was until he heard a distant sob and then a sniff. Slowly making his way around the corner he peeked into the living room. Undertaker laid there face down on the pillow, his silver hair covering his back. His hands were wrapped around his head. His sobs were obvious. Without thinking, Ronald moved over to the mortician, worried. "Hey, uh-" Ronald was about to say a name remarking his age, but decided against it. "Undertaker? Do you want someone to talk to?" Ronald had never had to comfort many people before, he was a tad lost. Confused or not, the agent still knew he shouldn't just leave the silver shinigami alone. The guy was having a on full break down, how could he leave him alone? 

Ronald sat down next to the retired legend when Undertaker moved to sit up. Undertaker was wiping tears from his eyes. Ronald looked at man sympathetically. "Are you alright? Wanna talk about it?" Ronald didn't expect much of a reaction from him, as the undertaker had appeared to be secretive. The mortician hadn't told him anything since he had been here. Actually, he hadn't even talked. He shook or nodded his head, that that was it. The gray haired man started to tear up again, and Ronald had feared he said something wrong. His worry turned to shock when the pale man hugged him tight and sobbed into the crook of his neck. Watching someone as a legend, high ranking shinigami fall apart in your arms was hard to watch. Scratch that, watching anyone fall apart in your arms is heart breaking. Ronald had fought this guy. He seemed so confident and calm. Like nothing would ever be able to make him break. But here he was, pouring tears into a junior reapers chest, holding onto him for dear life.

The blonde was to far in his thoughts, he hardly even realised that the man was murmuring something. Finally listening, he heard the undertaker was repeating 'I'm sorry' over and over into his chest. "Hey, man, you don't have anything to be sorry for." that was a lie. He did reanimate corpses, go against shinigami law, kick him in the face and- worst of all- gave the blonde a pile of overtime to complete. The only reason he had called out in court was because he was so surprised they were so willing to kill him so fast. No one saw the suffering in his eyes. It pissed Ronald off, to be honest. 

The Undertaker was whispering something else now. 'I'm sorry, I couldn't protect them like I promised'. His voice sounded rough in his throat. Another sniff and sob came after the statement. "Can you tell me what you're talking about?" asked the blonde. 

"The Phantomhives. I couldn't protect them like I promised I would. I failed." His voice was muffled by Ronald chest also a bit cracked by both crying and not talking for so long. "What do you mean you promised to protected them?" Ronald asked. The mortician lifted his face up and looked at Ronald. Ronald's heart broke. Normally Undertaker's face looked like one of boredom (for the past few days, at least). This time, his face was filled with sorrow. His silver fringe was messed up, his eyes sporting tears, eyebrows furrowed upwards, pale lips in a frown that made his lip quiver and his eyes- those damn eyes- had the saddest expression in them. Ronald reached out and wiped a tear from one of Undertaker's eyes, resting his forehead on the pale, scarred one. "How did you fail?" Pushed the blonde. "It's a long story." Choked the mortician in a small voice. "Then I'll stay here all night." Reassured the little agent. 

"I-I..." he took a minute to collect himself. "I left dispatch because of change in the way the trained the new recruits..." explained the undertaker. "I helped teach the youth, so green. They used their scythes like a common tool." He couldn't help but comment on his past students in such a way. "But.. one of my students didn't finish their last assignment. As you should know, that would be collecting their first Soul and cinematic records. They killed him on the spot." he continued. "Some were not so happy I was leaving. As you know, they take your glasses when you retire... this chap thought it was be a grand idea to splice them off my face." He reached up and traced the scar along his face, sighing. "After cutting me up to we're I could still live but not move, he throw me into mortal London. From there I lay on the streets, bleeding out." Ronald was still listening intently. Undertaker had calmed down a bit. "A woman found me. She took me in to her home and got her servants to clean and stitch me up. As payment, I became one of her underlings. I had been serving the Phantomhive household since then. Well... until the event on the Campania. Never mind that. I worked as an informant and assassin for the Phantomhives. Well, an assassin up until the fire." he smiled at the memory of the lass. She was a beautiful girl. But at the mention of the fire, his tears become worse. He waited until he sobered until he continued. "The Phantomhive house burnt down, I closed my shop for a few long weeks to wallow in my own grief. Soon I ran out of my food supplies and had to go out. When I heard a passing man talking about how they have the Phantomhive children up for sale, I was overjoyed. I found the address they had been taken to and rushed there as fast as my legs and other transportations could take me. When I got there, I was met with a horrible sight. One dead on the table and one making a contract with a demon. I knew it was to late for the little lad." undertaker laughed, but it held no humour. Ronald hugged him again. All he could do was promise the old man would be ok. He would make sure of it. The Undertaker genuinely smiled for the first time in a good few months. "I appreciate it lad." The Undertaker answered. 

The two sat there, hugging each other until the undertaker calmed down. Undertaker could get used to this boy.


End file.
